


First Date

by sageness



Series: Perspective [2]
Category: DCU
Genre: Canon - Comics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-13
Updated: 2006-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-03 14:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageness/pseuds/sageness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to "Perspective" for maelithil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Date

Bruce stood in his doorway.

_Bruce_ stood in his doorway, not Batman. He was wearing a white button-down and charcoal slacks. He looked like he could be dropping in after work, except for how he was Bruce Wayne and that would never happen.

"Hi," Dick said, belatedly, and backed out of the way so Bruce could come in.

"I should have called," Bruce said.

"You only call when there's an emergency," Dick said, and then kicked himself mentally. Not the foot he wanted to lead off on.

Bruce searched his face for a second, looking for hidden meaning, no doubt, and then glanced around the apartment. "Something smells good," he said after a moment.

"Oh crap!" Dick vaulted over the couch and landed in the kitchen just in time to swipe the pot of rigatoni off the stove before it boiled over.

"Need help?"

"I'm good, thanks."

Dick stirred and Bruce watched.

"So, what are you doing here?" he asked finally. Bruce looked away and Dick remembered the part about not calling first. "Never mind," he said, "Did you eat?"

"I had a late lunch."

Dick snorted. "I've got sauce for a week. Let me boil some more pasta and we're good to go."

"You don't have to—"

"Shut up. Can you make salad?" Bruce's eyes flashed and Dick smirked back at him. "Make salad."

A while later, they had salad, chicken rigatoni, and wine. He didn't think Bruce would drink more than a sip. He never drank, but they killed the bottle.

A little tipsy, Dick pushed Bruce toward the living room, fingers against his unarmored chest. He poked a little harder, smiling up at him.

"You said dinner..."

"Dinner and a movie, yeah," Dick answered. "How exactly did I end up cooking for us?"

"I was going to order in."

"And the movie?"

"We could do a late show," Bruce murmured. "Or something on demand."

Bruce sat down on the couch and Dick followed, close enough to keep touching. "You nervous?"

"Dick—"

"I'm glad you showed up," he said, because he was. And he was in no way blind to the glint of relief in Bruce's eyes.

"Me too," Bruce said.

"Remember when it used to be easy between us?" Dick asked, and then kicked himself again because one day he would learn not to put his foot in his mouth when he was this close to getting what he'd always wanted.

Bruce shook his head. "It was never easy."

"When I was a kid, I mean."

"When you were a child, I didn't know how to take care of you. When you became a young man, I was even more lost. And then Clark..."

"_Clark what_?"

"Sorry, the wine..."

"Clark what?"

"He made it look so simple."

Moving closer, Dick pulled Bruce's face close to his and felt the scrape of stubble against his hands. "It _is_ simple."

They stared at each other for a long time before Bruce finally leaned in, offering his first tentative kiss.


End file.
